


The Usual (or Lack Thereof)

by nightfurious



Category: Digimon Adventure Zero Two | Digimon Adventure 02
Genre: 5+1 if you squint, F/F, M/M, Modern AU, coffee shop AU, dumb soft and memey, it's just fluff, no digimon au, they're doing their best
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-17
Updated: 2020-02-17
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:46:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22766473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightfurious/pseuds/nightfurious
Summary: Daisuke's having a crisis. Ken's having a crisis. Miyako wants to help. Takeru just works here.
Relationships: Ichijouji Ken/Motomiya Daisuke | Davis Motomiya, Inoue Miyako | Yolei Inoue/Yagami Hikari | Kari Kamiya (background)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 33
Collections: Daiken Valentine's Exchange 2020





	The Usual (or Lack Thereof)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LordArtsyFics](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LordArtsyFics/gifts).



> for a valentine's trade in the daiken server (which, if you'd like to join, can be found [here](https://discord.gg/pgnZ88s))!! happy valentine's, artsy!!
> 
> disclaimer: everything i know about coffee shops (and jobs in general!) comes from starbucks visits that i can count on one hand and one (1) "day in the life" video

It was a slow day, and Daisuke was bored.

His fingers rapped a steady rhythm on the counter as he glanced around the shop again. It was mostly empty, save for a few people borrowing the Wi-Fi, and no one had entered for the last twenty minutes. There was probably something else he should be doing besides standing at the counter, but whatever it was, he’d rather not find out.

Not that this was much better. It was too quiet.

At least he wasn’t alone. Takeru was here, too, though he hadn’t done anything besides scroll through his phone since the last customer. Unfortunately, Daisuke’s had died hours ago. Takeru would occasionally turn to show him memes – and he was sure he would be bombarded with messages from him when he got his phone back on – but the brief solace he found in the cryptic images couldn’t overpower the existential crisis of being forced to stare at a dark window pane for what felt like hours on end. 

He was ready to slam his head on the counter, certain that the apathetic, glassy-eyed college students wouldn’t even bat an eye, when the front doors finally slid open. 

He jolted to attention, the pre-programmed welcome speech ready to start rolling from his tongue, when he realized who the newcomer was and the words died in his throat. Beside him, Takeru suddenly straightened, and he finally tucked his phone away. “Oh, hey, Iori. Daisuke, move.”

Daisuke made a wordless noise of protest, but the two of them switched places. Takeru and Iori’s friendship was a peculiar one, considering they had met while in the exact position they were now, but they had an almost scary way of understanding each other. Daisuke found himself reminded of this every time Takeru would put in a different order for Iori without even asking, make it on his own (even though Daisuke was right there every time), then head off to a table with him for several minutes, leaving the whole counter to Daisuke. Being on his own was less than ideal, but his complaints always fell on deaf ears, so he’d given up.

“How was school today?” Takeru asked distractedly, punching buttons on the screen.

“What are you, his mom?” Daisuke muttered. The two of them shot him a glance, Takeru annoyed, Iori amused. 

“It was fine,” Iori said in response. Daisuke heaved a sigh, uninterested in eavesdropping on pleasantries, and opted to ignore them.

Their departure was swift, and once he was alone, Daisuke found himself glancing pensively down at the counter again. The door opened again before he could act on the temptation, and he looked up as a new party entered. One of them, bright lavender hair as good as a nametag, was a regular; he wouldn’t call her a friend, but they knew each other well enough he had long since abandoned all pretense of professionalism around her. His hands went on autopilot, keying in her usual order, even as his eyes landed on the other of the two and his brain short-circuited.

Daisuke knew he had never seen him before, because he was certain he would have remembered him if he had. The guy looked like he could be a male model. His hair fell to his shoulders in dark, shiny rivulets, blue eyes sparkling, skin pristine. Daisuke felt his body temperature rise several degrees the longer he stared, and then suddenly he realized he was staring and jerked his head away. He looked back up a moment later, customer service smile plastered on his face, but as soon as his eyes landed on the stranger again, his mental script scrambled. “Uh – hi, welcome, what can I get you for?”

_Ah._

He turned to the girl without waiting for an answer. “The usual for you, Miyako?”

“Of course! Oh, and Daisuke –” She reached up and slapped the shoulder of the man next to her, who jolted. “– this is my friend, Ken! It’s his first time at a shop like this, so I’ll get him the same as me, please!”

The poor guy was looking more uncertain by the second, scanning the menu above Daisuke’s head. Daisuke quickly recognized the helpless face of a stranger who had no idea what he was looking at, and sympathy washed over him. He’d never understood it either until he started working here, and some of it still didn’t make any sense – how could _coffee_ be so complicated? Much to his chagrin, Takeru, who had been here longer, still had to translate a lot of the terms for him, a fact he flaunted every time Daisuke had a question. As Daisuke duplicated Miyako’s order, he offered Ken a reassuring smile, and his mouth went dry when their eyes locked.

He needed a distraction.

He turned automatically to pass the order along to Takeru, only to find the blond casting him an innocent grin from a table across the shop. Daisuke grimaced as he turned to get it himself. If he’d learned anything from the _Papa’s_ games, it was that trying to man a counter like this all by himself was a bad idea, and he’d get bad scores left and right. But this particular counter had the perk of giving him actual money, which meant he had to at least try.

Thankfully, Miyako and Ken weren’t closers, and they waited patiently while he worked. Miyako’s eyes lit up when he finally approached, two cups in hand. “Thanks, Daisuke!” she chirped, reaching out to grab both of them. Ken paused and glanced at her, one hand awkwardly held in the air between them, and slowly lowered it back to his side. Daisuke would have laughed if the shy motion didn’t make his heart clutch.

As if he could sense Daisuke’s internal panic, after Miyako dashed off to claim a table – he wasn’t sure why she was running, half the shop was clear – Ken turned to Daisuke and murmured, “Thank you.”

His voice was soft and kind, and Daisuke’s whole body stuttered to a stop at the sound. He could practically see the gaudy heart arrow sticking out of his own chest, which didn’t make any sense, he’d just met the guy, if you count handing someone a drink as meeting them. That was definitely not enough of an interaction to form a crush, which was by _no_ means what this was. Ken was just pretty, that’s all.

Curse Daisuke for being bi.

To make matters worse, something about Ken struck a familiar chord in Daisuke’s chest, like he’d seen him somewhere before, but he had no idea where. He’d definitely never been to this coffee shop, or else Daisuke would remember him. Miyako also said this was his first time here. The feeling persisted, the memory nudging at his mind, but he couldn’t place it no matter what locations came to mind.

And, to make matters even _worse_ , as Daisuke watched the two of them settle down in a corner booth, he saw Ken’s demeanor completely shift. At the counter, he had been so nervous, like he would rather be anywhere else in the world than at this coffee shop, but sitting in the booth with Miyako, he was talkative and animated, and she burst into laughter several times at whatever dry comments he made. He couldn’t see Ken’s face, which let him down more than he was willing to admit, but he knew Ken was smiling. The dots connected easily. _Oh. They’re dating._

Daisuke frowned. He was disappointed. Which he _shouldn’t_ be.

Why was he disappointed? He’d spoken two words to the guy – or, more precisely, Ken had spoken two words to him, and Daisuke hadn’t said anything. 

Something in his heart continued to squirm at him. He didn’t like that one bit.

As he shook his head forcefully and turned his gaze back to the counter, he decided there was a lot to unpack here, but he’d rather just throw away the whole suitcase.

/////

Ken couldn’t stop thinking.

This was no different than usual; he was well aware he tended to overthink. Unfortunately, this included things like two-second interactions that would be forgotten by the other party within minutes. 

The words “thank you” kept echoing in his head. Why had he said that? He was trying to be polite, of course, but the more the scene played in his head, the more his words felt out of place. He knew the barista probably hadn’t paid him any attention, and he probably wouldn’t be going back to that shop again, but he still wanted to leave a good impression. He didn’t want some stranger he may never see again thinking he’s weird. For some reason.

To add insult to injury, every time he remembered that moment, he remembered the barista’s face. He remembered the bright spark in his eyes, the easy lilt of his voice. He hadn’t even spoken to Ken. They’d hardly even looked at each other, yet Ken couldn’t stop thinking about him. He was probably just paranoid, but that was how he decided he’d never go back to that coffee shop again.

And then, of course, he found himself going back to that coffee shop, led by the wrist by Miyako. This time, though, he wasn’t the only one: wrapped up in Miyako’s other arm was her girlfriend, Hikari, who looked about as thrilled to be here as he was.

To Ken’s utter horror, it was the same barista at the counter as yesterday, this time flanked by a bored-looking blond. The barista – Daisuke, if memory served – looked up the moment the three of them entered and flashed them a bright smile, the pure wattage of which nearly knocked Ken off his feet, before turning to the screen before him. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. _Would it be rude to run?_

Dread it though he did, they arrived at the counter all the same. Daisuke’s eyes roved the three of them before settling on Miyako, and he said, “The usual for you, Miyako? And what about you two?”

“Yes, please! Ken will have the same, and Hikari here–”

The brunette interrupted with a bunch of jargon that flew right over Ken’s head, but Daisuke punched it in on the screen easily. After Miyako paid, he passed the order along to the blond next to him, who set about making it while Daisuke turned back to the three of them. “So, what brings you two here?” he said, looking pointedly at Ken and Hikari. “I haven’t seen you around before.”

“Miyako,” said Hikari. Ken choked back a snort, but he nodded in agreement. 

Miyako rolled her eyes. “Well, I like this place! I wanted to show it to them. Plus, it’s a good place to study.”

Hikari and Daisuke both laughed at that. “Miyako, you’ve been here a lot, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen you study,” Daisuke pointed out.

She flushed, but before she could respond, the other server nudged Daisuke’s shoulder, holding out a drink carrier. “Order up,” he quipped. Daisuke took it and passed it along to Miyako, which was unnecessary, but she took it gratefully and bounded off, Hikari at her side.

Ken turned to follow, then froze in place. Hesitation slowing his limbs like a thick jelly, he forced himself to face Daisuke again and muttered, “Thank you.” Daisuke looked surprised for a second before smiling that smile that could challenge the sun, but Ken took off before he could speak. Whatever he was going to say, Ken didn’t want to hear it. Why was he overthinking common courtesy?

The booth Miyako and Ken had occupied the previous night was taken, so they swerved for one on the opposite side. Ken breathed a sigh of relief the moment he was tucked into the safety of the corner, the warmth of his cup seeping into his fingers and up his arms. He caught Miyako sending him a grin at the sight, and suddenly the heat found his cheeks. He looked away awkwardly as she turned to Hikari. “Hey, Hikari, you’ve never been here?”

Hikari shook her head. “This is my first time. But I know you come a lot, and I know Takeru works here, so I’m glad to have finally come.”

“Oh, you should definitely come more often! It’s usually not busy, and the coffee is really good. And, if Takeru works here, I know you’ll get good service.”

She laughed and shoved Miyako’s shoulder. “He’d never give me special treatment, you know that. He’d charge me extra just because he can.”

“Well, you got me there.” Miyako’s giggles faded and she lightly flicked Hikari’s nose. “But I would. Give you special treatment, I mean.”

Hikari smiled gently. “You already do.”

Feeling intensely out of place, Ken took a sip of his drink. Miyako had told him what it was last night, but he hadn’t known what the words meant then, and he’d forgotten by now. He liked it, but it wasn’t exactly his taste. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t drink it; Miyako had already paid for it, after all. He couldn’t let that go to waste.

By now, Miyako had her arm wrapped around Hikari, her phone held in front of the two of them. Judging by their occasional squeals, he guessed they were watching animal videos, which was something you couldn’t escape if you knew Miyako. At one point, she gestured to the screen and said to Hikari, “Look at those two, that’s us.” Ken averted his eyes just fast enough to avoid seeing them kiss.

Now thoroughly the third wheel, Ken coped by staring out the window and trying to picture that he wasn’t sitting alone, perhaps instead on a double date with Miyako and Hikari. He imagined an arm slung over his shoulder, a boisterous laugh echoing in his ears at something he’d said, someone incessantly poking him to get his attention. He’d pointedly ignore them for a few seconds, just for fun, and when he finally turned, lips curled into a teasing smirk, he’d come face-to-face with –

A jolt ran down his spine, and he blinked several times, shaking his head to rid himself of the vision. Hikari shot him a confused glance, but he offered a placating smile and took a sip of his drink. She didn’t look convinced, but she turned back to Miyako.

There was no way that just happened. Ken had gotten himself lost in a fantasy, a dumb, indulgent fantasy about not being alone, and it featured _Daisuke_? A barista he’d spoken to twice now, who may or may not find him weird for thanking him? _That_ was his mind’s first instinct, rather than any of the girls or even boys in his classes that he spoke to way more often? It was _Daisuke_?

He gripped his drink tightly, careful not to crack the paper. He needed to get out of here. It wasn’t that he was panicking, but it felt like any second, Daisuke was going to appear over his shoulder, and he’d already know exactly what Ken was thinking. He was haunting him. Why won’t he go away?

Ken was never coming back to this coffee shop again.

/////

“Daisuke.”

“Hm?”

“You’ve been acting weird today.”

Daisuke paused where he was wiping the counter and turned, frowning, to face Takeru. “I’ve been – what does that mean?”

That grin on Takeru’s face could only mean bad news. “You’ve been distracted. Look, you’ve been staring at your hand for the past five minutes without moving. Spill.”

“There’s nothing to – hold on, where do you get off analyzing me like that?”

“Is it Miyako?”

Daisuke’s frown deepened. “Miyako? Is she what?”

“Oh, no, of course not, excuse me.” Takeru’s eyes practically sparkled. “It’s that guy who was with her, right? The one you were making heart eyes at.”

The image of Ken sprang unbidden to his mind, smiling shyly as he apologized over Miyako’s antics, and his thoughts ran screeching into a wall, bursting into a flame that reached his face in an instant. “I – _heart eyes_? No! Shut _up_ , Takeru, what are you even talking about?!”

His words were drowned out by Takeru’s laughter. “I was kidding, but it _is_ him! Ken, right? You like him, don’t you?”

“What’s it to you?” Daisuke nearly slapped himself; so much for denial. But if anyone would figure him out, it would be Takeru, so there wasn’t much of a point. “It doesn’t matter anyway! I’ve only met him twice, and besides, he has a girlfriend.”

Takeru choked at that, and Daisuke waited impatiently, pointedly refusing to help, as he coughed his way back to coherency. “He has a _what_? Sorry, did I hear that right?”

“A girlfriend? Haven’t you seen him with Miyako?”

Takeru opened his mouth, then closed it again. His expression was strange and unreadable as he stepped forward and slapped a hand on Daisuke’s shoulder. “You need to get out more,” he said finally, his voice hoarse.

“I need to – _huh_?”

The bell behind them tinkled. Takeru glanced past Daisuke to the door, and his grin snapped back into place, somehow more sinister than before their conversation started. “Sorry, gotta go. Your celebrity boyfriend is here.”

“ _Shut up_ , Takeru!” His face aflame, he shoved the snickering blond away before whipping around to face the register. He had an idea of who Takeru was talking about, but his words still left him unprepared for what he saw.

It was Ken. 

And neither Miyako nor the other girl from earlier were with him.

 _He’s alone?_ Judging from how anxious he was even with his friends around, this seemed like the farthest place from Ken’s comfort zone. And, last Daisuke checked, he still didn’t know anything about coffee. So why was he here?

Daisuke took a deep breath, trying to still his erratic heart, and grinned up at Ken in a way he hoped was reassuring. “Hey! Back again?”

Ken offered him a shaky smile in return and said quietly, “Uh, yeah, I –” He paused and took a quick, resetting breath. “I wanted to, uh, study here for a little while.”

He hadn’t brought anything that looked school-related, but Daisuke decided not to point that out. “Well, you picked the right place. What can I get for you?”

Ken’s eyes flicked up to the menu behind Daisuke’s head, and several seconds of silence stretched between them. “Um…”

“Don’t know?” Ken turned back to him, looking panicked, and he smiled again. “Don’t worry, we get that a lot. Would you like a recommendation?”

His body went slack with relief. “Yes, please. You’re right. I, uh, don’t know what most of that means.”

Daisuke chuckled. “It can be confusing, especially at first.” Oh, the professional script was _killing_ him. “Well, I’ll be honest – I still don’t understand a lot of it, either. But, hm… do you like chocolate?”

Ken nodded, eyes lighting up. Daisuke grinned. At least chocolate was universal.

“Then, how about the peppermint hot chocolate? It’s simple and tastes good. And, between you and me, it’s one of the only ones up there that makes any sense.”

Ken laughed at that – an actual laugh, soft and shy and, dare he say, _cute_ , and Daisuke felt his soul leave his body. The sound shot straight from his ears to his head to his heart, which promptly stopped beating, and then he started breathing for the first time in his life, born again from the waters of _that laugh_.

Then he realized he was staring. And Ken was looking awkward again.

Daisuke chuckled nervously and tapped in the order as fast as he could, hoping beyond hope that Ken had agreed to it while he was distracted. Well, he didn’t think he was the type to correct him even if he was wrong. But he had to go through with it now; anything to end this interaction, which had just gone south in the worst way possible. He refused to look Ken in the eye as he walked him through payment, heart throbbing in his throat. Then the order was in his hand, and he passed it to Takeru, whose eyes were somewhere between smug and sympathetic, and he was left alone with Ken again without a task to busy him.

Conversation. He had to say something. Let the spirit of customer service possess him once again.

The words “Wonderful weather we’re having” were on the tip of his tongue. _Not the time._

To his surprise, Ken spoke up first. “Are you – uh, do you work here every day?”

Daisuke blinked, finally looking at him again. His cheeks were tinged the slightest shade of pink, but he didn’t look as anxious as he had when he came in. “Not every day, but often enough. I go to the university nearby, so I’m usually –”

“Really? So do I!” His voice rose to a near shout, and the moment the words were out, he blushed and glanced around the shop. No one bat an eye.

Daisuke blinked in surprise, then a grin split his face. “Seriously? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you around, though! I guess we don’t have any classes together. Are you on any of the sports teams?”

“I’m not, but –”

“Order up.”

Daisuke nearly jumped out of his skin as Takeru’s hand materialized in front of him, holding Ken’s drink. Ken took it gratefully, holding it close as though absorbing the heat. Daisuke almost grinned at the sight but realized at the last second that might be weird. Not that staring wordlessly was much better.

Ken glanced hesitantly up at him, then turned to face the door. “I’ll… go sit now,” he said finally. “Thank you.”

And with that, he was off. Daisuke frowned. There was no one behind him, no line he was holding up; what was the rush? Was Daisuke just that bad at casual conversation? He wouldn’t be surprised, but he didn’t think that had gone too badly.

“So? How was he?” Takeru sang from behind him.

“Shut up, Takeru.”

/////

Daisuke wasn’t at the coffee shop the next day. Or the day after. Or all week, for that matter.

Ken stopped by several times each day, but he never caught sight of him behind the counter. The reason was obvious: Daisuke was simply not scheduled to work during the weekdays. Yet every time Ken found a new face smiling back at him over the register, it was as though the floor fell out from under him. He berated himself for feeling disappointed; this shouldn’t be so important to him. So what if he didn’t see him for a few days? They’d only just met, and at best, they were barely friends.

Except that wasn’t the problem. There was something else.

And every time that _other_ feeling reared its ugly head, Ken beat it back with a stick, determined not to acknowledge it today, or, preferably, ever.

Daisuke was cute. That was _all_. He didn’t _like_ him.

And even if he did – which he _didn’t_ – Daisuke was just doing his job. He’d probably already forgotten Ken’s face by now.

But Ken couldn’t forget Daisuke’s. He saw it every time he closed his eyes, every time that brief fantasy inspired by Miyako and Hikari crossed his mind again. He saw his smile, its radiance filling him with warmth, and often found himself mirroring it, which was mildly mortifying when there were others nearby. He remembered Daisuke’s kindness, his unending patience in the face of Ken’s incompetence. 

He really wanted to get to know Daisuke better, but the coffee shop employee schedule didn’t seem to be cooperating. That _other_ feeling only strengthened as Ken’s thoughts continued to whirl, and he didn’t like it.

Then, as the weekend approached again, he got a text from Miyako.

_I’ll meet you soon, but I’m going to the coffee shop first._

His thumbs were flying across his keyboard before his mind could catch up. _Can I come with?_

Wait. _Wait_. Why did he do that?

Just as he was about to block Miyako’s number, saving him from the terror of being perceived, a response came through. _Yeah, of course? I’ll wait for you outside._

He ran to her side as fast as his legs could carry him. She tossed him a weird look as he approached, but he ignored it, and she didn’t ask the question that seemed to be burning in her. For that, he was grateful.

Then they entered the shop, and Ken’s eyes flicked automatically toward the register. His heart stuttered to a stop.

He was here. Daisuke was here.

Something in his heart stirred. Ken readied his stick again as he followed Miyako to the counter, but his resistance fell away the moment Daisuke looked up at them. 

“Oh, hey, you guys!” he greeted, eyes unnaturally bright. “The usual, Miyako?”

“Yes, please! And Ken –”

“May I have the same as last time, please?” Ken interrupted.

Daisuke turned that radiant grin back to him, and he nearly backed away from its strength. “You liked it, then?” 

Ken nodded emphatically.

“Last time?“ Miyako echoed, glancing at him questioningly. “Did you come here without me?”

 _At least ten times, actually,_ he thought. He nodded instead.

She continued to stare at him for a moment, then her eyes widened. Her gaze turned to Daisuke, then back to Ken, then back to Daisuke, and her mouth split into a horrible, horrible grin. “Oh! Oh. I see. Ken, you should have told me!”

Behind Daisuke, the blond boy, the same one as last time, burst into laughter. Daisuke gritted his teeth and pointedly ignored him, casting Ken a glance full of sympathy, and something _else_. Ken decided to pretend he hadn’t noticed, because that’d be a lot easier than figuring out what that _something else_ was. He really, _really_ didn’t want to think about it, or, worse yet, get his hopes up.

Miyako finally paid for their order, and she turned to face Ken as Daisuke passed it along. “So, what did you get?”

“Peppermint hot chocolate.”

“I recommended it,” Daisuke cut in, somewhat proudly. 

“Oh, did you, now?”

Ken didn’t quite like where this conversation was going. “ _Miyako_.”

She glanced at him, eyes sparkling with conspiracy, but they softened as she seemed to understand his plight. “Well, in that case, I’m glad you found something you like. And that _Daisuke_ , of all people, was nice enough to help you out.”

Ken choked back a laugh while Daisuke bristled. “And what do you mean by that?”

“Oh, you know –”

“Order up.”

The blond reappeared and reached out to Miyako, two drinks in hand. Daisuke noticeably jumped at his arrival, the same as he had done last time Ken was here, and Ken couldn’t hold back a laugh this time, which was an embarrassment unto itself, but then the worst case scenario happened: he snorted.

The moment the sound escaped him, he clamped his mouth shut, his entire body seizing, heating up like he’d just entered an oven. Miyako merely cast him a glance, amused but unsurprised, and the blond did much the same, though he was clearly choking back his own laugh in response. Ken was grateful for the effort, though it didn’t make him feel any better. Then his eyes found Daisuke’s, and his stomach dropped.

Daisuke was staring at him. There was no malice in his eyes, no hidden derisiveness in his expression, but something _else_ , and Ken couldn’t maintain eye contact long enough to find out what it was. 

Oh, he didn’t want to be here. Why had he asked to come?

Miyako finally accepted their drinks and offered one to Ken, which he took gratefully, before starting in the direction of the booths. He glanced back up at Daisuke – _is he breathing?_ – and offered the tiniest of awkward smiles, whispering, “Thank you.” Then he dashed after Miyako, desperate to put all of that behind him, literally.

As he slumped into the chair, far away from the counter, he breathed a sigh of relief. Opposite him, Miyako began giggling, escalating quickly into full, dramatic laughter, and Ken glared at her all the while, slowly sipping at his drink. When she finally caught her breath, wiping a tear from her eye, she wheezed, “You! You like him, don’t you?”

He winced. “Please don’t say it so loudly.”

She huffed, still grinning. “You really should have told me! I can help you, you know. Get his number, find date ideas, the works.”

He chanced a glance back toward the counter, but he couldn’t see Daisuke anymore. Instead, the blond barista was standing, hands on his hips, laughing down at something on the floor behind the register. “There’s nothing to help,” he said simply, turning back to Miyako. “At best, we’re just friends. Thanks for the offer, but I don’t need anything.”

“Yeah, okay. That’s why you’re suddenly so interested in this coffee shop now, so much that you came alone and asked to come with me today. You just want to be his friend.”

Ken hung his head, pressing his drink to his forehead. The paper burned his skin, but not as much as the red that must be branding his cheeks by this point. Miyako sighed, and he heard her place her cup back on the table.

“Look, Ken, I get how you feel. Trust me, it took forever to even think about asking out Hikari. So I won’t butt in if you don’t want me to, but you have to promise me that you will do it at some point.”

Ken thought about Daisuke, his eyes bright and burning into Ken’s. He thought about his smile, his laugh, carefree and full of heart, and the way he carried himself, the way he dropped the professional façade around them, wearing his heart on his sleeve for only their eyes to see. At that, he caught himself smiling into the air again and quickly wiped it off his face, though he knew Miyako hadn’t missed it. He sighed slowly. “I will. Don’t worry.”

He was definitely coming back to this coffee shop, and soon.

/////

Daisuke couldn’t stop thinking about Ken.

He wasn’t unused to this; the other had been on his mind constantly for the past week. Everything about him was captivating. For one thing, he was simply stunning, with dark hair that shone in the light, blue eyes so deep Daisuke thought he might be pulled in, pale skin that looked so soft he wanted to reach out and brush his hand on his cheek. He held himself with confidence, yet every movement betrayed an anxiety Daisuke longed to put to rest. His voice was quiet, but Daisuke hung on his every word, and his own were taken away each time Ken spoke. Even when all he said was “Thank you.”

That was the voice clip currently reverberating through his mind as he sat at a table in the shop, so far gone in his own head he may as well be astral projecting. “Thank you.” And with every repetition, Ken’s blush became more pronounced, more brilliant, more captivating. Daisuke couldn’t look away.

Something in his vision suddenly moved. He jolted, whipping his head back and forth until he found the source, not totally comprehending Takeru’s amused grin until he was offering one of the cups in his hands to Daisuke. “ _¿Quieres?_ ”

Daisuke blinked several times, his memory returning to him, and accepted the drink. He didn’t know what it was and didn’t think to ask, but it didn’t matter much. It tasted fine.

“So,” said Takeru, dropping into a chair next to his, “how’s your work going?”

He glanced at his laptop, which was open to a single document with the word “The” written in large, eloquent font, and sighed. “Not great.”

Takeru nodded sagely. “I understand. Too much pining.”

Daisuke scowled and shoved him. “I was not! What do you know about pining, anyway?”

“What do _I_ know?” he said dramatically, feigning hurt. “My poor friend, you have no idea. In fact, I –”

“If you make that _Frozen_ reference again, I’m going to kill you.”

“They hated Jesus because he told them the truth.”

“You’re not Jesus nor are you telling the truth,” he muttered, picking up his cup again, trying to ignore Takeru’s rendition of _Fixer Upper_.

Across the store, the sound of the door opening briefly activated Daisuke’s fight or flight response, but he brushed it off just as quickly. He wasn’t on the clock; that wasn’t any of his business.

Until it was. Only a few seconds later, a familiar voice said from behind him, “Daisuke?”

He nearly spat out the drink he had just taken, instead opting to swallow in such a way that it hurt his throat the whole way down, a process which was not helped by his frantic twist to face the speaker. His heart leapt into his throat as they made eye contact. “Ken?” he coughed.

“Hm? Daisuke?” Miyako appeared over Ken’s shoulder, flanked on her other side by the brown-haired girl who had been with them once before. Her face brightened when she saw them. “Oh, hey! Are you not working today?”

“I do, but not ‘til later. What are you guys doing here?”

“This is a public place,” Takeru pointed out.

“Miyako brought us again,” said the other girl. “I’m Hikari, by the way. I’ve heard a lot about you from Takeru.”

Daisuke frowned and turned to glare at Takeru, but the blond merely laughed in response. “She’s my best friend, we’ve known each other since we were kids. Don’t act like I’ve never mentioned her.”

Her name did ring a bell. Daisuke also had to grudgingly admit that she was pretty cute. She wasn’t nearly on Ken’s level, though.

Wait. Ken’s here.

_Ken’s here._

The thought caused Daisuke to glance at him against his will, but Ken wasn’t looking at him. He was watching the others with a fond smile, listening as Miyako overtook the conversation, expression the most relaxed Daisuke had ever seen it. Ken looked entirely at ease standing beside her. With a twinge of guilt and frustration, Daisuke remembered that Ken and Miyako were dating, and he dragged his eyes away, trying to focus on the conversation again, only to realize that Miyako and Hikari were suddenly pulling out chairs to sit.

“I don’t remember inviting you guys to a lunch date,” he complained, no actual ill will behind the words.

“Oh, good,” Miyako chirped. “Hikari’s my date, so that’d be awkward.”

Daisuke blinked. “Hikari – wait, huh?”

Next to him, Takeru huffed a laugh. Miyako and Hikari exchanged an amused glance, then Miyako said, “She’s my date. We’re dating. You didn’t know?”

“Well, no, I’ve only met Hikari twice, but – wait.” He whipped around to face Takeru. “You _knew_? And you didn’t think to tell me?”

Takeru dropped a hand on his shoulder. “Like I said, you need to get out more.”

Miyako and Hikari were dating. Miyako and _Hikari_. Not Ken. Did that mean Ken was single? On second thought, he shouldn’t care, this shouldn’t matter to him; Ken was probably straight, anyway, and Daisuke did _not_ have a crush on him. 

That breathtaking smile flashed through his mind again, but this time it was directed at Daisuke, for him and only him, bright and full of love, for _him_. Daisuke’s brain stuttered to a stop. Alright, maybe he should rethink that last part.

Hikari deposited her bag in the chair between Takeru and Miyako. “I’ll go place our orders,” she said. “Ken, what do you want?”

“Oh, I’ll come with you.”

“No, you stay here. What should I get you?”

“Um… Peppermint hot chocolate, please.”

As she set off toward the counter, Miyako dragged a chair over from a nearby table, placing it purposefully between herself and Daisuke. “Here, Ken, you can sit here!”

“You don’t have to do that,” Ken said quickly. “I’ll just go somewhere else.”

“No!”

It took Daisuke several seconds and a few stares to realize he’d been the one to speak, and he panicked. “It’s no bother, and it’s already done. Besides, you’re our friend now, right? One of us.”

Briefly, Ken looked like he was slapped by the words, and they locked eyes. Daisuke felt his breath disappear. The deep blue seemed to pull him in, made it impossible to avert his gaze, and it was coupled with an expression that looked part confused, part entranced, one that made his heart falter, pounding harder in his ears the longer the moment lasted. The world around them faded and dissolved, and then it was just him and Ken, just him and the boy who had haunted his thoughts for a week straight.

“You sound like an anime protagonist,” Takeru muttered, raising his cup to his lips, and just like that, the spell was broken. Daisuke shot him a glare.

Ken settled into the chair somewhat reluctantly, and Miyako followed suit, looking satisfied. Daisuke glanced at his computer; it had long since gone to sleep, but he knew what lied behind the black screen, and he wasn’t getting any more work done today. As he was tucking it away, Hikari returned with three drinks and passed them to Miyako and Ken. 

“So, Daisuke,” said Miyako, placing her drink on the table, “you said you work later today, right? What’s it like here?”

“It’s decent. It’s confusing, but we don’t get a lot of bad customers. And they’re good with scheduling, too. I only have to work weekends, unless I have a game.”

Ken perked up at that and leaned forward. “A game? You play sports?”

Daisuke blinked. “Uh, yeah. Soccer.”

“Really? Me, too!” Ken’s eyes were suddenly alight with a fire that surprised Daisuke as much as it made his heart race. “Are you any good?”

“Well, yeah, I’m one of the top players on the team!” Daisuke said indignantly. “What do you care? I thought you didn’t play sports, anyway.”

Miyako coughed a laugh into her drink. “Daisuke, you should know better than any of us, Ken’s kind of a big shot when it comes to soccer. Right, Ken?”

Ken grimaced and muttered something in response, but Daisuke’s brain shot into overdrive at the words. If that’s the case, he should recognize him, right? Ken _had_ always looked familiar, but he’d never been able to place it. His mind ran through recent soccer news, then some of the magazines he used to read, and then –

“No way. You’re _that_ Ken? Ken Ichijouji?”

Ken opened his mouth, then closed it, then said, “Yeah, although I don’t –”

“Are you serious? I used to be your biggest fan!” _Understatement of the year._ “You were incredible out there! The way you led your team, you were almost entirely undefeated! We lost to you a few times, too, but it didn’t matter, because you were just so _cool_ , we were never mad!”

Every particle in Daisuke’s body felt like it was vibrating. This was unreal; meeting his childhood hero, who was his age, at his job, and making friends with him? This had to be breaking some sort of natural order.

“Uh – thanks, I guess? I haven’t played in a while, though.” He seemed vaguely uncomfortable. Daisuke was starting to wonder if he’d said the right thing. Again. 

“So what? You’d still wipe the floor with me!”

Some of the tension seemed to drop from his shoulders. “Well, I guess we’ll have to play to find out, won’t we?” he said, offering that dazzling smile again. Daisuke’s chest clenched painfully.

He had tried to deny it for a week, but he couldn’t ignore it anymore. He had a crush on Ken. He had a crush on Ken Ichijouji, soccer prodigy from their junior high days, who, for all his accomplishments, was a wonderfully shy, kind, and absolutely breathtaking person. Daisuke’s heart went into a frenzy every time he looked at him, his every thought that wasn’t a gay panic sent scattering to the far corners of his mind. And his voice, that laugh. “ _Thank you_.” This couldn’t get any worse for him.

And yet, as he stared into Ken’s eyes, slowly catching his breath as a smile made its way onto his face, it felt like the opposite. This couldn’t possibly be any better.

/////

As Ken strided through the door into the coffee shop again later that day, it was with purpose and determination. He was here on a mission, and he wasn’t going to let himself back down.

No matter how much he wanted to.

He felt like he was going to die. He had the smallest semblance of a plan, but nothing that made Ken feel any better about the looming confrontation. No matter how he looked at this situation, it was going to be a mess. If Daisuke said yes, Ken didn’t know what he’d do with himself; if he said no, well, then Ken might actually die.

But he’d sworn to himself he wouldn’t overthink it, just this once. He just had to go for it. Just a few minutes of courage was all he needed.

Except it wasn’t Daisuke at the counter.

“Afternoon, Ken,” Takeru said, grinning. “Back so soon?”

He chuckled nervously. “Just… wanted to stop by again, I guess. Is –” He gulped. “Is Daisuke around?”

Takeru’s eyebrows shot up into his hairline immediately, but just as quickly, his expression shifted to understanding and support. “Yeah, he’s in the back. He’ll be out in a second. And, by the way,” he added, turning to tap on the screen. “You don’t have anything to worry about. Peppermint hot chocolate, right?”

“Huh? Yeah. But –”

“Daisuke and I met through this job, but it’s been a few years now, and we’re pretty close. He’s nice enough, when you get to know him, but he can be a real piece of work. It usually takes him a while to warm up to someone. But not you.” He flashed him a grin over the screen and leaned heavily on the counter as the card reader started flashing at Ken. “He wants to spend more time with you just as much as you do with him.”

Ken froze, whatever words he was about to say dying on his tongue. He didn’t want to get his hopes up, but Takeru’s message came through loud and clear, and he believed him. Maybe he was right; maybe this wouldn’t all crash and burn around him.

“Ken?”

Speaking of Daisuke.

The door swung shut behind him as he stepped away, frowning at Takeru. “You’re here again? Takeru, what did you say to him?”

“Doesn’t matter.” Takeru turned to start making Ken’s drink, despite not having the order in hand. “I think he has something to say to you, though.”

_Ah._

Daisuke looked to him, brows furrowed. “Ken? Are you okay?”

“I – I’m –”

 _Breathe._ He could do this. He could do this.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Uh, Daisuke, I, uh, do have something to ask you.”

“Did you forget your money? I’m not paying for your hot chocolate.”

“Would you go out with me?”

They both froze.

Oh. This was stupid. He shouldn’t have said that. Why did he say that? Why was he here? He should have never come back. _This is fine._

Daisuke’s fist clenched, and before Ken could react, he dropped his head unceremoniously on the counter. Ken yelped at the sight. “Uh, Daisuke? Daisuke! Are you okay?”

He swung back to a standing position just as quickly, and Ken realized his face was beet red, and he suspected it wasn’t from injury. “I – yeah. Yes. To all. I will. I do?”

Ken’s legs nearly gave out under him. “You – you do? I mean – yes? That’s a yes?”

“Yeah! I – yeah, of course.”

His heart swelled, folding into his throat, threatening to beat straight out of his chest and into Daisuke’s hands. That worked? _That actually worked?_

A laugh bubbled up out of his throat, hysterical at first before shifting into unrestrained glee, and it was quickly copied by Daisuke. Ken couldn’t recall the last time he’d been so happy. 

“I can give you my number,” said Daisuke. Ken nodded.

“No need.”

Takeru reappeared over Daisuke’s shoulder and held Ken’s cup out to him. On the side, scrawled in clear, black Sharpie, was a phone number. Daisuke blinked at it. “Wait, Takeru, why do you remember my number?”

“Sorry, that’s redacted information. And Ken, you still need to pay.”

“Oh!” Ken fumbled in his pocket for his card and ran through the process as fast as he could. Daisuke waited patiently, tapped a few buttons on his screen, and tossed the paper order somewhere under the counter once it printed. Ken retrieved his drink and took a few steps away, but Daisuke stopped him.

“Wait, Ken, are you just going to drink that here?”

He blinked and nodded.

“In that case –” He placed a palm on the counter and vaulted dramatically over it, landing next to Ken. He grinned over at Takeru. “I’m taking a quick break. I’ll come back when he leaves.”

“What? Wait, you’re leaving me on my own? That’s not fair!”

“Karma’s a bitch, Takeru!”

Ken tried to fight back his laughter but failed spectacularly, hiding his giggles behind his drink. Daisuke turned to face him, eyes bright and full of that _something else_ again and this time Ken allowed himself to recognize it as the same thing he had been feeling for the past week: adoration. They hadn’t known each other long, but Ken thought this may be the closest thing to love at first sight that he’d ever experienced. And he certainly wasn’t complaining.

He reached out with his free hand and wrapped it around Daisuke’s wrist, offering him a soft smile. “Thank you.”

Daisuke grinned broadly back at him, every bit as brightly as he had before, and Ken felt as though he was being warmed from within by the sun itself. He slipped his hand through Ken’s grip and threaded their fingers together; his hand was just as warm as his smile, and it felt distinctly right, as though he were coming home. Ken’s heartbeat roared in his ears as Daisuke opened his mouth.

“No, you.”

**Author's Note:**

> there are ,, a lot of memes in this! so i thought i'd clarify some of the more niche/less obvious ones here.
> 
> papa's games: a series of flash/java games about running assorted restaurants. closers are the final customers of each day who are extremely strict.
> 
> "dread it though he did, they arrived at the counter all the same" is a rephrased thanos quote. "dread it, run from it, destiny arrives all the same."
> 
> daisuke's paper with "the" is from spongebob
> 
> [quieres](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oaW1frpSSQQ)
> 
> ["they hated jesus bc..."](https://imgflip.com/memetemplate/148656334/They-hated-Jesus-because-He-told-them-the-truth)
> 
> i hope you liked it!!!!!!!!


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